But Jiang Liu was, after all, not a man.

Even using her strength sparingly, she soon found herself drenched in sweat, breathing heavily.

Ye Li suggested, “Why not take a break? It won’t delay frying the tofu puffs.”

If the tofu wasn’t pressed by noon, they wouldn’t sell it; instead, they’d fry it all into puffs after lunch.

“It’s fine.” Jiang Liu had brought her own clothes. She pulled it from her bosom, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and smiled. “Farm work during the busy season is far more exhausting than this.”

Ye Li tried again, “It really isn’t urgent. Just curdle the tofu before the hour of the Snake.”

“Brother Li, I can handle it. Just thinking about earning ten wen for grinding two buckets of beans gives me energy!”

“I can’t earn that much doing other hard work.”

Jiang Liu said, hanging the cloth around her neck before grabbing the millstone handle and pushing it again.

Her words made Ye Li feel rather uneasy.

But at this moment, aside from grinding beans, Ye Li couldn’t offer her any other help.

His only skill lay in cooking.

The needlework and braiding that girls and young people excelled at—he’d only inherited the original body’s memories of those crafts, knowing nothing else.

But without bringing something new to these trades, they simply wouldn’t earn money.

He needed to come up with something else…

The mill fell silent.

Though Jiang Liu was panting heavily from exhaustion, her pace was surprisingly not much slower than Jiang Ji’s.

When the first bucket of beans was ground, Ye Li urged her again to rest a while, not to push herself.

Honestly, a short break wouldn’t harm his business.

But Jiang Liu wiped her sweat and shook her head. “Brother Li, with such generous pay, how could I face resting? If I did, I’d definitely help you with other chores during the day—otherwise, I’d feel guilty.”

Ye Li: “…”

What a down-to-earth girl!

It was truly heartbreaking to see such a good girl struggle with poverty.

As dawn approached, Ye Li went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

Soon after, the two little ones, Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya, woke up.

They dashed to the mill, carrying a bucket of soy milk that had been ground twice into the kitchen.

They’d grown accustomed to squeezing in time to filter the bean pulp whenever they could.

After breakfast was ready, Jiang Liu still had a small amount left to grind. Ye Li called her to eat, but she shook her head and declined, letting Ye Li and the two little ones eat first.

By the time Ye Li, Jiang Mai, and Jiang Ya had finished breakfast, she had finally finished grinding.

Compared to Jiang Ji, she was only one meal behind.

That was no small matter.

Ye Li admired her from the bottom of her heart and immediately went back to her room to fetch ten copper coins for her.

Daily wages!

Jiang Liu was exhausted, her face flushed and her arms aching, but after taking the coins and weighing them in her hand a few times, only a smile remained on her face.

Ten wen for a morning’s hard work—it was well worth it!

Since the Jiang family’s grain came from her home, she didn’t stand on ceremony with Ye Li. She ate a steamed bun and two corn cakes, drank a bowl of corn gruel, then left with a satisfied smile.

Next, Ye Li boiled soybeans and curdled the milk to make tofu.

Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya grabbed their baskets and went out to cut pig grass.

With no grinding to do, Ye Li felt much lighter. After setting the tofu curd, he washed, swept, and wiped everything down. Then there was nothing else to do.

He returned to the west room, lay on the kang, and seriously pondered new ways to earn money.

Soon, someone came to buy tofu.

It was Jiang Da-chuan, Father Jiang’s cousin.

When Father Jiang was alive, relations between the two families were passable. After his death, Jiang Ji spent most of his time at the private school, while Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya were raised by Jiang Dahu’s family. Thus, contact between the two households dwindled.

Moreover, Jiang Da-chuan’s family also lived a hard life.

His Fulang had injured himself during the birth of their fourth child and could no longer perform heavy labor.

His eldest son, Jiang Tong, two years older than Jiang Ji, had been apprenticed to a carpenter in Baxian Town for ten years.

He was still unmarried.

The second daughter had already been married off.

The third son was the same age as Jiang Liu.

The youngest son was the same age as Jiang Liu’s younger brother, Jiang Yu, now fourteen.

Watching their three sons grow older, Jiang Dachuan and his wife worried their hair would turn white from the strain—marriage was proving difficult!

Today, however, Jiang Dachuan’s face bore none of his usual gloom. Seeing Ye Li emerge from the main hall, he smiled and waved the burlap sack in his hand. “Brother Li, Xiao Tong’s back. I’ve come to trade for three pounds of tofu.”

“Big Tong’s back? Then we should indeed have something special. But the tofu’s still a bit watery right now—not firm enough,” Ye Li replied.

“No problem. It’s fine for stir-frying even if it’s soft. Won’t hold up dinner.”

Ye Li chuckled at this: “True enough. I’ll add an extra ounce then.”

“No need. You’ve had your own hardships,” Jiang Dachuan hastily waved him off.

As their uncle, he hadn’t raised the Jiang Ji brothers these past years. How could he possibly take advantage of them now?

“Uncle, it’s only right. We can’t let our closeness mean you lose out.”

Ye Li said with a beaming smile.

Every family has its own troubles. Though he was now genuinely committed to building a life with Jiang Ji, he harbored no resentment toward Jiang Dachuan.

After a few more back-and-forth exchanges, Jiang Dachuan finally relented and took the extra two ounces of tofu.

After Jiang Dachuan left, more customers came to buy tofu.

Ye Li served customers while preparing lunch.

They were out of white flour, but a few steamed buns remained. Having eaten rather lavishly these past days, lunch would be simpler.

He cut a block of tofu and steamed it alongside the buns and corn cakes. Once steamed, he placed the tofu in an earthenware bowl and made a scallion-tossed tofu dish.

He added a bit of corn grits to the pot to make a thick porridge, and lunch was ready.

Though it was simple fare, Ye Li, Jiang Mai, Jiang Ya, and Ye Liang all ate heartily.

While eating, Ye Liang began discussing the sales of the glutinous rice cakes.

If these fried dough sticks were sold at other stalls, few would be willing to buy them.

But now that the Liu family’s pancake stall had gained a bit of fame, everyone knew the food there wasn’t cheap. A top-tier pancake stuffed with fillings—tofu puffs, large skewers, greens, eggs, and white tofu—costs eight wen altogether.

With that price point established, the five-wen-per-piece noodle cake became more acceptable.

After all, it was made with white flour, deep-fried, and sweet as could be!

Crucially, it looked appealing too. Once displayed, passersby couldn’t help but give it a second glance.

“Five fried dough sticks—one for sampling, the other four sold quickly. Master Zhu from the oil mill bought two, and another wealthy household took the remaining two.”

“That household made quite a show of it. Neither the master nor the mistress stepped down from their carriage; they sent a young servant and a wet nurse to the stall to make the purchase.”

Ye Li was taken aback. “A household like that would actually eat from our roadside stall?”

“Our stall has a great reputation. Even though it’s just a small roadside stand, some wealthy folks who aren’t too particular are willing to try something new.”

Ye Liang said with a smile.

Before Ye Li could speak, he suddenly slammed his hand on the table, his expression turning serious. “Remember that grilled pancake stall in town that copied us? Well, today Zhu, the owner, said they’re not just selling eggs and plain tofu anymore—they’ve started selling fried tofu too!”

“What?!” Ye Li exclaimed in surprise.

Jiang Ya and Jiang Mai, who were munching on buns, instantly widened their eyes, their little heads turning toward Ye Liang in unison.

The trio’s reaction pleased Ye Liang greatly. He regained his smile and drawled, “But their fried tofu tastes just like the tofu slices we fry at home—firm, not mushy, and doesn’t soak up too much sauce.”

“Mr. Zhu had hoped that this pancake shop being near the oil mill would make it easier to get pancakes later. Little did he know their fried tofu was just ordinary fried tofu. Mr. Zhu was quite disappointed.”

Hearing this, the little hearts Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya had lifted to their throats sank back down.

They resumed munching on their buns, though their wide eyes remained fixed on Ye Liang.

Ye Li nodded. “Absolutely. Only our shop has the puffed tofu and the large skewers.”

If ordinary tofu were steamed in a pot and then fried for ten minutes, the result could technically be called puffed tofu.

But the degree of puffing and its ability to absorb sauce couldn’t compare to his current method.

Moreover, both steps—steaming and frying for ten minutes—were essential. How many people could guess both correctly?

He truly wasn’t worried about anyone copying his recipe.

It would only make his authentic version taste even better.

Changing the subject, he asked, “Brother, how many fried dough sticks should I make tomorrow?”

There wasn’t a single ounce of flour left at home.

Frying could only start tomorrow.

“Hmm… I discussed it with your elder brother. Start by frying thirty tomorrow.”

Ye Liang said.

Today’s smooth sailing didn’t guarantee tomorrow’s. No rushing ahead—take it step by step.

“Alright.” Ye Li agreed.

After dinner, Ye Li fried the tofu puffs as usual.

After seeing Ye Liang off, he grabbed his copper coins and headed to Jiang Fu Zheng’s to buy some wheat.

Wheat cost five wen per catty, while flour was seven wen—clearly buying wheat to grind himself was the smarter deal.

Ten catties of wheat cost him fifty wen.

After bringing it home, he first rinsed it thoroughly, then spread it out in the courtyard to dry.

Night fell swiftly, marking the end of another day.

That evening, Jiang Ji still struggled with insomnia.

Lying on the hard kang, listening to the snoring within the room, he sighed deeply. He had only slept with Ye Li for one night, yet he found himself unable to adjust to the kang he’d slept on for years!

Annoying.

Having slept late, he washed his face twice with cold water the next morning to shake off drowsiness before hurrying to the lecture hall in the main courtyard.

Morning recitation was about to begin; only after that could he go to the dining hall for breakfast.

Entering the lecture hall, he headed straight for the middle window seat on the left side.

Sitting down at his usual spot, he picked up a commentary on The Analects and began reading softly by the dim light.

After flipping through a few pages, the teaching assistant patrolling the lecture hall entered.

He glanced at the empty seat beside him, his long eyebrows arching slightly.

Why wasn’t Bao Beiyuan here yet?

Absent yesterday, and now nowhere to be seen today…

Meanwhile, Jiang Dahu and his daughter Jiang Liu arrived punctually at the Jiang residence.

This time, Jiang Liu again urged Ye Li to return to bed, insisting she could handle everything alone.

“I’m already up. Let me do some chores,” Ye Li replied.

Hearing this, Jiang Liu relented and agreed.

The first vat of slurry filled quickly. While Ye Li switched vats, Jiang Liu wiped the sweat from her face and said, “Big Brother Datong is back. Did you hear, Li?”

“I know. Uncle came to buy tofu yesterday,” Ye Li replied, placing an empty wooden bucket beneath the groove’s outlet.

He then picked up the scoop and began shoveling soybeans into the grinder.

Jiang Liu spoke again, “Brother Datong won’t be going to town anymore.”

“Huh? Brother Datong completed his apprenticeship? Uncle didn’t mention that yesterday,” Ye Li exclaimed in surprise.

“He didn’t complete it. He quit.”

Jiang Liu’s face darkened with anger. “He apprenticed under that carpenter Wang for ten years, serving him like a son. All he learned was menial stuff—pushing the plane, stringing lines.”

“The night before last, that carpenter accused Brother Datong of deliberately making the foot-washing water too hot and berated him for a full fifteen minutes.”

“Big Tong couldn’t take it anymore. He packed his things that very night and came back.”

“…There’s more to the story?” Ye Li was stunned.

“You bet! It’s outrageous!” Jiang Liu flung the cloth angrily.

Under normal circumstances, learning a trade meant paying an apprenticeship fee, finding a master, then studying for three years and following them for another three—three years mastering the craft, three years taking on jobs with the master. That added up to six years before becoming a fully-fledged artisan.

But teaching a disciple well might starve the master, so some held back, refusing to impart their most valuable secrets.

Jiang Liu understood this situation.

But Jiang Tong had served Carpenter Wang like a slave for ten years, only to learn the most basic rudiments and endure constant beatings and insults. It was truly unjust!

Upon hearing this yesterday, she was furious and resolved to demand justice at Master Wang’s home.

But her father argued that the Jiang family had few male heirs and couldn’t hold their own in such a confrontation.

Besides, once a teacher, always a father—what was wrong with a father scolding his son? Given this logic, even if she went to make a scene, she’d likely come away worse off.

Didn’t you see Jiang Tong preparing to endure it?

These words only made her fury boil over.

But as a young woman, her words carried no weight.

For now, she could only vent her anger by grumbling to Ye Li.

After listening to her rant, Ye Li felt less furious than Jiang Liu. He pondered for a moment and said, “Let’s go see the clan chief today and see if we can get some justice.”

The Jiang clan had lived in Wild Jujube Hill for over a hundred years. Though they all shared the same surname, the families had long since grown distant from one another.

But that was internal.

When it came to external matters, they certainly united.

Jiang Dachuan and Jiang Dahu simply lacked their father’s boldness.

After enduring such humiliation, they still planned to swallow their pride.

Had their father been alive, he would have stormed the carpenter’s door yesterday.

Father Jiang was the kind of man who dared to raid enemy camps and burn their grain stores!